Pickles In Transition
by Madame-Mew-Mew
Summary: Pickles meets Tony pre-snb in the 80s, Pickles isn't out about being a trans man yet and the pair begin dating.  This story chronicles Pickles's transition.


He met her in a bar on Sunset. Cute as hell, and so very pleased to meet him. She was all smooth milk white skin, and flame red hair with a pretty face in thigh high boots and the shortest tightest skirt she could wear without getting arrested.

She grinned at him from across the room and he bought her a drink, and she told him her name, Penelope Piper, called Penny by her family to match her coppery hair. She told stories about Wisconsin that made him laugh until his sides ached, and pushed him up against the bar to stand on her tip toes and kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and kissed back.

They went back to her place and she pushed him down on the bed, dragging her nails down his chest, kissing along his neck. "Baby, yer fuckin' gorgeous," she said, and he smiled at her accent, tangling fingers in her hair. She slid off her shirt, and he unhooked her bra with a practiced hand. Perfect tits, like roses in bowls of fresh cream, and he raised his hands reverently to cup them.

"You... are so... bloody hot," he purred, looking at her with lust in his violet eyes. She laughed, and kissed down his chest, taking his cock, rock hard already into her mouth, and sucking. She was good, head bobbing up and down, nails running down his inner thighs, making him whimper with desire. She loved the noises, and her emerald green eyes flashed wickedly as she swallowed around his length.

"Ah, god, Penny," he groaned, as a wave of pleasure crashed over him and she lifted her head, looking at him for a moment.

"Please don't say my name," she said, before returning to what she'd been doing, teasing him until he was half drunk with pleasure.

"P-Pickles," he groaned, trying to avoid the forbidden word and he could sense the smile on her lips when she raised her head again, "Hmm, I kinda like that, you can call me Pickles," she said with that ready smile. She asked before getting out the strap on and he agreed without question, her mouth had been so hot, so intense he would have done anything just to have her by then, and when he found himself with her lubed up fingers in him, stretching him, curling to find the spot that made him see stars, he knew objecting would have been absurd. She flipped him over, pressed herself against his back as she worked the digits inside him, drawing moans from him, burying her nose in his midnight scented hair. He mewled with pleasure, making noises he didn't know he was capable of producing as she rocked her hips, sending bolts of pleasure through him that shook him to the core.

"Pickles," he groaned, and somehow it didn't sound silly, it fit her, fit her the way Penny didn't. She moaned at the sound and deft, calloused guitar players fingers wrapped themselves around his cock, short nails painted hot pink and he couldn't help but smile. She stroked him knowingly, free hand round his waist keeping him close.

He roared when he came, coating her fingers with his seed, rocking his hips, whining and gasping, half sobbing, and she found her orgasm in his sounds, in his shudders, crying out with her own pleasure. She was like no one he'd met before and he fell asleep in her arms.

So he called her Pickles and she called him Tony and they wrote songs with her on guitar and him on bass, and went out to diners at three AM and had mind blowing sex.

It was a few months before Pickles told him. She sat him down on the bed and clutched his hand when she did.

"Tony, I feel like a guy, I've always felt like a guy, n' I love ya, n' I can't bear the thought of losing ya, but it's killing me, and it just fuckin' hurts all the time, my body feels wrong... I've been seein' a therapist n' I gaht my letter fer testosterone today, n' things are gonna start changin, and I'll... understand if you don't want to stick around," he said, and Tony just looked at him for a moment, as if really seeing him for the first time, and then pulled him into a hug, stroking his hair, "It don't matter to me," said the raven haired man, "I love you no matter what... and it's not as if... there weren't signs."

Pickles was almost tempted to weep for a moment with sheer relief, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. "Even if I grow a beard?" he asked, grinning against Tony's chest.

"You'd be bloody cute with a beard."

"n' you won't miss the tits?"

"Even though they're the most perfect tits I've ever seen, you'll be just as sexy without em."

Pickles kissed him.

"I gaht one more thing to ask ya," he said.

"Oh?" said Tony.

"Yer better with a needle than I am... I need my testosterone injected, will you do it for me?"

"Of course."


End file.
